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<title>And in the weightless hours by Beleriandings</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204896">And in the weightless hours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings'>Beleriandings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Sleepy Sex, Tenderness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:54:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, this was different, Ianto knew. When it was the dead of night like this, these strange non-existent in-between hours, things like this were possible. There were rules, unwritten, unspoken, but very real, set into the bedrock of the two of them. Call it a loophole, Ianto thought as Jack gasped into his mouth, something that might have been words, or might not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And in the weightless hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long day.</p><p>They’d spent it fighting; a series of minor Rift alerts in quick succession, an infestation of weevils at one of the old wharves, and he’d only just managed to avoid being knocked into the brackish waters of the Bristol channel. But they’d had hardly any time to regroup with the rest of the team before the sensors had picked up a time-slip in the middle of a quiet suburban street on the other side of town, and they’d been running again, trying to stabilise it before ghosts could slip through and plague the neighbourhood. And then to top it all off, an infestation of alien ants in a JD Sports in the middle of town, one of which had given Ianto a nasty bite to the upper arm before Gwen had managed to come in and spray them with industrial-grade insecticide. It had been the first of many. All in all they’d been chasing them around until 11pm, not to mention cleaning up and retconning the witnesses.</p><p>By the time they’d got back to the Hub Ianto was utterly wrung out; he and Jack had been planning a date tonight, but once again, fate and the Rift had had other ideas.</p><p>As it was, Ianto was too tired to go home; he was asleep before his head hit the pillow in Jack’s bunker.</p><p>He had half woken up a little while later, blearily aware of Jack slipping under the blanket beside him, poking him in the side to get him to shift. Ianto’s limbs felt like lead, his body too exhausted to do anything much but roll to the side to give Jack space.</p><p>He’d thought he heard a soft, affectionate chuckle before warm and heavy arms encircled him, and the light went out again. In a matter of moments, he was dropping back to sleep once more, too tired to stay awake any longer.</p><p>Not that it lasted long; after all, Ianto had never been much good at sleeping through the night, exhaustion or not.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what woke him; perhaps it was the crick in his neck from sleeping with his head at an odd angle, pressed up between the cool wall behind his back and the warm solidity of Jack, the two of them pressed close by the strictures of the narrow bunk. Perhaps it was because Jack was too warm, like a furnace as usual under the blanket, or maybe it was because Ianto was thirsty, his mouth tasting dry and bitter at the back. But whatever it was, he was awake. Ianto blinked sleepily, cringing as he shifted his shoulders to try to get the stiffness out of them without waking Jack pressed up beside him.</p><p>He was also hard, he realised a moment later, his cock pressed up against Jack’s thigh which had slipped between his legs while they were sleeping, warm and heavy. He felt a frisson run through him at the slight friction as he shifted, immediately growing harder still.</p><p>It was then that Jack mumbled and shifted in his sleep, lips moving against Ianto’s sweaty throat in the blackness. “Mmm. Ianto?”</p><p><em>Go back to sleep Jack</em>, he was about to say, but the words died on his lips as Jack drew himself up a fraction, warm and heavy with slumber. And the words fled his mind completely as Jack – still half asleep, Ianto thought – began to press lazy, open-mouthed kisses to his sternum.</p><p>This was not something he got to see often, was the thing; usually they were more frantic, tearing each other’s clothes off after a long hard day for the release of it, or else it was some elaborate game they’d come up with beforehand. This was something different though, Ianto already knew as Jack raised himself up a little, loosely straddling Ianto’s hips. The small bed creaked, lumpy mattress springs popping as Jack shifted his weight on top of him.</p><p>Ianto’s awareness sharpened in the dark, pulling him a little further out of his sleep-warmed haze and into reality again. Not that he could see anything much; thus, the only warning he had was Jack’s warm breath against his lips for a moment before Jack kissed him, slow and languid and impossibly tender.</p><p>It was more than Ianto was prepared for, especially with the grind of Jack’s hips that came with it, blood-hot against his skin. He let out a very undignified breathy whine against Jack’s lips as he came up for air, hand coming to wrap around the back of Jack’s head, fingers lacing through his hair. Jack’s face was pressed close to Ianto’s, far closer than they’d usually come when the lights were on and the world felt real.</p><p>Yes, this was different, Ianto knew. When it was the dead of night like this, these strange non-existent in-between hours, things like this were possible. There were rules, unwritten, unspoken, but very real, set into the bedrock of the two of them. Call it a loophole, Ianto thought as Jack gasped into his mouth, something that might have been words, or might not.</p><p>Jack talked a lot during sex most of the time, and Ianto was always finding creative ways to stop his mouth, or else steal away his eloquence when he did speak; he saw it as something of a personal challenge. But this time there was only this; these half-formed things, words that both were and were not.</p><p>It was a relief in some ways, not needing words; Ianto thought he himself had never had the way with them that Jack had. Ianto’s hand slipped down between them, fist encircling both their cocks and working the sleep-warmed skin until they were both trembling, mouths hot and humid and messy as they pressed together with every inch of skin they could.</p><p>It was still pitch-black in the bunker; neither of them had bothered to get out of bed to turn on a light, so they were completely in the dark. But it made the rest of Ianto’s senses sharper: the feeling of Jack’s sweat-dampened skin all along his, the sound of Jack’s breaths and the quiet moans he made as Ianto’s hand worked them, the smell of him as intoxicating as ever, the taste of his mouth. Ianto had been mildly surprised, early on, that Jack’s mouth tasted just like any other person’s in the middle of the night without brushing their teeth, tacky and sour just like his own; surely, he’d thought, the great Captain Jack Harkness would be different, wouldn’t be bound by such petty human concerns as morning breath. But he’d been wrong, of course; he’d come to learn that despite having some notable physical differences, in most ways Jack was no more or less any other twenty-first century human.</p><p>Ianto’s other hand was around Jack’s waist now, fingers clenching into the flesh there, coming up to score lines against the skin of Jack’s back with his fingernails as Jack bore down with his weight, putting more pressure between them. Ianto ducked his head, biting blindly at the skin of Jack’s throat as he twisted his wrist, fingers tightening about both of them in his fist. Jack let out a high-pitched whine, and Ianto sucked a fold of skin at his neck into his mouth and bit down; ever since he’d met him, he’d wanted to bite at every part of Jack, find every patch of skin and kiss and lick and make it his own. It had perturbed him greatly at first – because back then there was Lisa, and that part of his heart had yet to come crashing down completely, held up by denial and self-deception, love and misplaced hope. But now he’d long made his peace with it, letting himself take the time, in moments like these, to indulge his past fantasies. To run his teeth against the apple of Jack’s throat, traveling downwards to sink them into the softness below Jack’s clavicle just so. To mouth at the soft parts of his wrist where his pulse was, and along the bones and the tendons there, to kiss his palms and his knuckles. To suck marks onto his chest, dig his fingers into Jack’s back and sides, paint his bitten kisses all along the insides of Jack's thighs. <em>Mine</em>. For a little while, at least.</p><p>Ianto knew that nothing he did would leave a lasting mark on Jack’s skin. He regretted that sometimes, wishing he could leave him with bruises, soon to be smoothed over by a soothing tongue. But of course they faded too fast, and that was just the way the world was.</p><p>Jack left bruises on Ianto’s skin; that was the way the world was too. Now he was dipping his head to Ianto’s collarbone again, biting at his shoulder and upper arm and kissing the places where his teeth had been a moment before. It pleased Ianto when he did that, when Jack’s teeth left a mark on him; he would come in to work the next morning, shirt done up neatly as ever, but he’d know, he’d know the marks that were underneath. Not like his scars, the built-up palimpsest of healed-over violence; these were temporary, fading soon enough, but they meant so much more. From Jack they meant, <em>you’re mine, </em><em>Ianto Jones, </em><em>for as long as this lasts</em>.</p><p><em>For as long as we have</em>.</p><p>And it also meant <em>a</em><em>nd I’m yours, </em><em>Ianto Jones</em>, Ianto liked to think when he was having a fanciful moment. Not that he let himself indulge in those too often; it would only hurt more in the end if he did, he knew. But perhaps here in the dark, there were things he could let himself have. Here in the dark, this in-between place, he could let himself think that Jack could be his, when really Jack belonged to the universe, to the great terrifying emptiness of time stretching out before him.</p><p>He was jolted out of his musings by Jack’s hand on his stomach, both forceful and reverent as he caressed his abdomen and then slipped down to wrap his fingers around Ianto’s on their cocks. At the same time the other hand was reaching behind him, fingers tensing on his arse to both grip and squeeze him, pulling him even closer so that his body was lined up with Jack, the two of them touching at every point possible.</p><p>The advantage of Jack’s bunker was that it was never too hot even in the most exceptional summer heat. The weather outside was a feverish August heatwave, but down here in the concrete depths of the Hub it was always cool, which was just as well when the narrow bed pressed them so close together. But now the warmth between them was growing again anyway, heady and intoxicating, the smell of Jack and of sex hot and thick in the air along with it, the pall of sleep-warmth still lingering over him. With his free hand, Ianto grasped the back of Jack’s neck, fingers twisting in the short strands of hair as he pulled him closer. He twisted a little, just so, in the way he knew Jack liked, and was rewarded with a choked-off gasp and a bite to the hollow of his throat. Sensation soaking through him, building up until it was almost overwhelming.</p><p>Ianto could feel himself getting close now. But Jack was closer, he could tell by the way his chest heaved against his. Ianto squeezed his hand around them a little tighter, adding a twist to his wrist – and it was all about the technique, touch and muscle memory and instinct, like so many things that Ianto had mastered – and made Jack gasp against his throat, warm breath dampening his skin. A moment later it was followed by the heat of Jack’s release spilling over his hand. He felt Jack smile into the soft flesh beneath Ianto’s chin, teeth rasping against the unshaven roughness, biting at it as he gasped and came and rode out the aftershocks.</p><p>Ianto let out his breath, open mouth against the side of Jack’s head. When Jack had gone still he twisted the hand still clenched in Jack’s hair again, tilting Jack’s head back to kiss him, open-mouthed and messy as Jack’s cock softened against his in his grip on both of them.</p><p>But Jack seemed to have other ideas; after only a moment of this, he pulled away from Ianto’s grip, ducking his head down in the dark. His fingers pressed into Ianto’s hips, and for a moment Ianto thought he’d get up and walk away before he felt Jack’s mouth on him, licking up the cooling come on his belly. He keened at the back of his throat, annoyed and needy; Jack was licking at him, sucking at his stomach in places as he went. But avoiding what he really wanted, avoiding the straining length of him. Jack was muttering something tender against his stomach, mouth dipping low to the root of his cock. The words vibrating against the skin and the cluster of sweat-damp hair there until Ianto could hardly bear it any more. His hand went to the back of Jack’s neck again, feeling blindly in the darkness; but even as he did it, Jack was already taking mercy on him, swallowing him down into the heat of his throat in one go.</p><p>Jack’s mouth was, as always, exquisite, and Ianto twitched, unable to keep himself from fucking upwards into him. Jack’s hands were gripping his hips, fingers clenching in the soft parts above his hipbones as he blew him, points of pressure both keeping Ianto pressed down and grounding him, and driving him to distraction as Jack swallowed him down.</p><p>And from there, of course, it didn’t take long; Ianto had never been one to save his pleasure for later, to try to hold back. Not with Jack, anyway; he’d never been under any illusion that there necessarily would be a later, and so he’d always taken everything Jack was willing to give him up front. Right now, he canted his head back against the pillows as Jack swallowed around him, poised for a moment on the point of orgasm before letting himself go over the edge. Grinding out a moan as Jack worked his throat around him, fingers clenching tight and bruising at his sides.</p><p>Jack kept up his ministrations even as Ianto came down from it until it became too much, the sensation overwhelming, and Ianto reached out a somewhat boneless arm to push him off his cock. He heard – and felt – Jack laugh a little, affectionately, as he drew back, coming back to idly draw his fingers through the sticky sweat and come and saliva mingled on Ianto’s stomach. Ianto shivered at the sensation, body still singing with the euphoria of a moment ago, stomach muscles twitching with it as Jack teased him with a gentle touch.</p><p>Eventually he heard Jack pad away to the tiny bathroom that adjoined the bunker, blinking like a nocturnal creature caught in a torch beam as Jack switched on the dim light, filtering through the crack in the bathroom door. He heard tap water run, and a moment later Jack came back with a cool, damp cloth to wipe down Ianto’s sticky skin. Ianto tipped his head back on the pillow and sighed and let Jack clean him off, feeling the interplay of heat and cold in the the darkness. Just feeling, letting the sensations suffuse him. Better to think about that, he thought, than about the future. If all they had was now, then better to relish every part of it and never think about a future that they’d never get.</p><p>And then Jack was turning out the bathroom light, plunging them back into blackness again, total and absolute. Yet somehow, comforting; as Ianto felt Jack slip back into bed again beside him, he thought that if he were to be able to see Jack’s face right now it would be too much, more than he knew what to do with. Instead he let himself relax, limp and boneless in Jack’s arms, head cradled in the crook of Jack’s neck. It wasn’t a very comfortable position for sleeping, this, especially in the small space. But for the moment he needed it, needed Jack’s arms around him, faces pressed together at the side. He surmised that Jack did too.</p><p>Not that that was something they spoke about; nights like this happened sometimes, but they never talked about them in the mornings. The next day they’d go back to their elaborate games, to quick tongues and sharp, teasing remarks, to fucking on Jack’s desk in fast, hungry thrusts. But this was different, this belonged to the darkness and the darkness only.</p><p>But as it was Jack’s arms were around him, cradling him with a heartbreaking gentleness. Likewise, Ianto’s hands came up and held Jack’s hips, clinging on for his very life. Jack was murmuring something close to his ear, but his voice was too low even for Ianto to make out, too slurred by sleep and warmth.</p><p>But he didn’t need to hear the words, Ianto thought. Because for now, in the dark of the night, this was more than enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title is from the song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPWwwEu_Ezw">Cover Me With Flowers</a> by David Sylvian... this is (according to my calculations) the third fic I've titled with a different lyric from that song, all in different fandoms. But it just has such excellent vibes for this specifically, and also in general, so... yeah.<br/>...Full disclosure, I impulsively started this fic at like 11:30pm and now I'm posting it at like 2am so sorry if it's a little bit of a mess... I hope you enjoyed it anyway though 🙃</p></blockquote></div></div>
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